I'll memorize your face
by FallingNarwhals
Summary: Hunk was the perfect mix of muscle and soft fat to cuddle with. To lean on, to hug, to kiss, to run his hands through his hair and braid it if Keith was okay with it.


Hand holding and cuddling at night was really the extension of their relationship. Small chaste kisses and just enjoying the other's presence was really all they needed.

Keith liked heavy things on him. Back at the garrison he would pile his textbooks on his back and shoulders and legs and crank up some music while studying or just in down time. It relaxed him, the same way walking while flicking his wrists or biting off the insides of his fingers seemed to make him feel more comfortable. He couldn't stand straight up for long amounts of time, crossing his legs over along with his arms and yes, that might have given off a stoic vibe but he didn't really care.

Hunk was the perfect mix of muscle and soft fat to cuddle with. To lean on, to hug, to kiss, to run his hands through his hair and braid it if Keith was okay with it.

And once, during those cuddle sessions where Keith was sprawled across Hunk's girth, he shyly asked if they could flip positions.

He had a weight stim, he explained. He liked heavy things on his chest and tummy. The armor was heavy and he liked wearing it, his pockets filled with pretty rocks he likes and provide a comforting weight.

He doesn't normally like people on him, he says. But he trusted Hunk and knew he would do what Keith would ask and stop if he said the word.

Hunk was more than ecstatic to say yes.

Keith scooted off of him, giggling when Hunk kissed his chin and threw his body onto the warm sheets.

It wasn't sex. He didn't really like sex, or maybe he just had bad experiences, but he didn't really crave or want it. All he wanted was Hunk's thick weight on top of him while they did their separate tasks.

Hunk scooted on top of him, Keith's ribs poking into his belly. "That alright?" He asked nervously.

"A little farther up." When Hunk shifted again his weight was evenly distributed across Keith's torso. "Perfect. Are you alright?"

"Yeah," Hunk smiled, kissing his collarbone lightly, making Keith blush faintly. "This is perfect. _You're_ perfect."

And when they woke up the next morning in the same position they were in they didn't mind a bit. Even if Hunk's back was a bit sore and Keith's legs needed a minute to get the blood flowing through them again, it was the best sleep they've had in a long time.

* * *

Keith doesn't remember when Hunk moved into his room. It was gradual, over time, when Hunk started to spend the night and had a stack of underwear in the corner and small projects on the desk and they had a collection of rocks from other worlds on the windowsill.

He grew used to waking up in Hunk's soft but i strong i/ arms and kissing the knuckles every morning and turning around in his arms to kiss those soft, thick lips awake.

He always had a bit of a hard time looking at faces, barely recognized Shiro when he rescued him from the Garrison. Took him forever to memorize his teammate's faces but learned to look at their eyebrows to make it seem like he could look at them.

It wasn't their fault.

He just couldn't see their faces. If he closed his eyes the could match the way they walked to their voices to their outfits to their hands, to their smell even toes if they were barefoot .

But faces were always blurry. So it was always a bit of a shock to see Hunk's, eyes closed and breathing steady, those cute splash of freckles across his nose, the bitten tattoo on his collarbone and that healing cut on his eyebrow from a galra's sword.

Hunk's breathing changed, his eyes fluttering open. Keith looked away.

It wasn't Hunk's fault.

A kissed pressed to the juncture of Keith's ear, an exhale of breath over his neck that made Keith shrink into Hunk's arms.

He grabbed Hunk's gentle, soft hand (with those square nails and tiny hairs and a thin tattoo on his wrist and those thick veins on the back of his hand) and brought it to his lips, kissing the knuckles softly.

He didn't need Hunk's face to have a relationship. Or anyone's face, really.

But one day he could. He promised himself.

* * *

Keith didn't realize the little things of Hunk being gone would affect him so much more than the big things.

He wasn't ready to walk into the kitchen every day and not see Hunk messing with the food to make breakfast for the whole team, or protecting his left side during training exercises.

He missed waking up in the mornings and being completely wrapped up in Hunk's soft arms, warm and feeling like nothing could hurt them. He missed cuddling, when Hunk would carefully lay himself onto Keith and they'll readjust every once in awhile to find the perfect leaning spot. He missed the heaviness on his whole body as they just existed together, occasionally giving a peck to miscellaneous body parts and just doing whatever as long as they were together.

He hated how pale Hunk looked when he was in the cryopod.

He hated how those white jumpsuit things clung to every curve and probably would chaft his thighs if he was awake and moving and the way how his hands were still.

That was the worst. Keith couldn't look at his hands. They were always fiddling with something, whenever it was a piece of altean tech or that tiny toy he found in a deserted corner of the castle or bits and pieces of metal he stored in his pockets.

They looked strange empty.

Keith didn't like sleeping by the cryopod every night (but didn't mind doing it for Hunk, because when he woke up he needed someone to oriantaint his bearings with and it had to be Keith because they were familiar and knew each other) and training without hunk or eating food goop or doing anything anymore.

Hunk hasn't been awake in two weeks. His face was pale.

Keith didn't know when Hunk would wake up.

None of them knew.

Keith leaned against the pod and waited.

He'll wait for a year if he needed to.

He'll wait forever.

"I got your face down," he whispered, "I'll look you in the eyes or the very least your nose and eyebrows so it looks like I am, because I'm tired of looking up and seeing your eyes closed."

Hunk didn't wake up. Keith wasn't expecting him to.

* * *

 **Keith has autism in this story, and I more or less projected my own problems relating to autism, like human contact, eye contact, and weight stimming. Weight stimming is where you like to have heavy things on your body, like thick soled boots or jackets filled with rocks or puttting "heavy" things on your body like overturned chairs and tables. Or in this case, Hunk.**

 **I'm not sorry to end this fic on a sour note, and I never will be. I love making everyone squirm ;)**

 **I'm more active on my tumblr narwhalsarefalling, so please check me out there! I recently hit two thousand followers on there and it's such a nice community.**

 **Please review! I was a bit nervous posting this story and it'll help me relax if yall could review (heart emoji)**


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